Ready Set Go

Marie's Point of View

"Well, um, Bill?"

"Yes?"

"I want to, but I...I'm scared."

"I will never hurt you."

"I understand. But you have to see it from my view. I have never been in a relationship that wasn't in grade school. I mean, a serious relationship."

"We can take it slow."

He was tearing at my defences, and I knew he was well aware of this fact. I stood there with my mind racing into a jumbled mess before anything spilled from my mouth.

"Yes."

He smiled widely and kissed me again. Gustav chuckled a soft laugh and left the room to give us privacy. Bill pulled away first, and his eyes sparkled with joy.

"Just remember, Marie. I will never hurt you. I would rather die than make you cry."

"You are such a poet."

"When he placed his lips on mine, I gave into the voices in my head screaming "Kiss him!" I pushed closer to him and clutched at his shirt to stop him from moving. I could feel his surprise, but he never once broke the kiss as he shoved me against the wall, deepening the lip-lock. He had just slid his hand slowly up my tube-top when we suddenly jumped apart for someone had cleared their throat quite loudly. Bill stepped back, and I fixed my top while Tom smirked in the doorway.

"You both are more of sluts than I am."

"I'm not a slut, Mr. One-Night-Stands-Are-My-Best-Friends."

"Shut up, Marie. You guys are my best friends. One night stands are just really good acquaintances."

I rolled my eyes, pecked Bill on the cheek, and went to my room to change out of my day-old outfit. The only clean clothes I could find were a plain black hoodie reading "61636" in white letters that Gustav had leant me, black track pants, and a pair of white flats; I made a mental note to do laundry that night. Once I brushed my hair, I pulled a white beanie decorated with black hearts and stars on, and hurried down the hall. Tom and Bill quit speaking in hurried German, and I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to go see my dad. I'll be back later."

They nodded and smiled at me; I ran out to the car and started it up. After adjusting the seat [Tom had driven earlier that morning] to my height, I drove through the streets of Berlin and found my father's building.

"Heya, Janit. Is my dad in?"

"Of course. Herr Lous, Ihre Tochter ist hier."

"Send her back."

"Hello, Dad."

"Hey, honey. How is it going at the house?"

"Good." I bit my lip, debatiing: do I tell him about Bill and me, or keep it silent? "I am officially being forced into going out with one of the guys each night."

"As dates?" he asked, his tone sharp.

"No. Just to get to know them each better."

"Good. I don't want you to get into any relationships with them past being friends."

"Okay. May I ask why?"

"They're a touring band. You'll just get hurt."

"Daddy, I won't. I can take care of myself."

"I know. But it's still a no, I'm afraid."

"Okay."

"So what brings you to my work?"

"I just wanted to know what exact date we're going to be leaving?"

"It's not set in stone yet, but it'll be in three months."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So, anything else you want to talk about?"

"Not really. Oh, yeah. Do you still have photo albums at your house? I want to make a collage to place on Mutti's grave."

"Marie, I do not want you to torture yourself like that."

"I won't, Dad. I need to do this though. I need to know who I am from, who created me. I need to know who I am."

Finally, once he'd finished staring at me for a few minutes, he sighed out, "They're in the attic."